


Now I’ve Got You

by WaitingForMy



Series: Andy & B’s Stupid Newsies RPs [3]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Fluff, M/M, Not a word of angst, The sisters that write Newsies trash together stay together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 16:22:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,354
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22040014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WaitingForMy/pseuds/WaitingForMy
Summary: The Torrid Affair of Kack Jelly and Kosher Dave from Manhattan chapter 50 1/2.
Relationships: David Jacobs/Jack Kelly
Series: Andy & B’s Stupid Newsies RPs [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1517465
Comments: 10
Kudos: 51





	Now I’ve Got You

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to all those who have stuck with us through the dumpster fire that is The Torrid Affair of Kack Jelly and Kosher Dave from Manhattan.
> 
> This takes places in between the two “scenes” in chapter 50. See, it broke the flow of the chapter, but needed to be addressed.

Most everyone in college has a preference for either papers or exams. Some people enjoy the flexibility papers allow, while others appreciate the finality of an exam. Davey Jacobs was one of the former. That said, with finals coming up, Davey had decided to spend his free time on Monday studying. He had just about fallen asleep in his textbook when there was a loud, sharp series of knocks on the door—one knock, then another, then three in rapid succession, and then eight.

“What the fuck?” Davey mumbled to himself, jumping up from his desk chair and crossing to the door. When he tried to pull the door open, it moved half an inch and then shut again. Whoever was on the other side was holding it shut. He backed up a step. “Who is it?” he called, frowning.

He heard a loud whisper from the other side of the door, “No, you gotta do the passcode so we know it’s safe,” and the sequence of knocks repeated: one, one, three, eight.

Davey narrowed his eyes at the door. “...Jack?”

“For god’s sake,” the voice—it was definitely Jack—hissed, and he knocked again.

Tentatively, Davey knocked back twice, then three times quickly, then eight. He heard a low grumbling on the other side of the door, and when he pulled again, it opened, revealing one Jack Kelly, wearing what looked like a flimsy, black bathrobe—wait, no, it was closed in the front—with a large hood over his jeans and T-shirt. The robe seemed to be a few sizes too small, and he was also holding...a plastic lightsaber?

Davey blinked and shook his head, just to make really sure he wasn’t delirious from staring at books for hours on end and hallucinating. “Jack, what...?”

“It’s Star Wars Day!” Jack replied, grinning like the biggest idiot on the planet.

“It’s...” Davey blinked a few more times, then realization dawned. “May the fourth.”

Jack held out his free hand. “So c’mon!”

Oh, this absolute, ridiculous  _ dumbass _ . Davey loved him so much.

“It’s Monday, Jack. You—” Davey paused. “Did you call out of work for Star Wars Day?”

“Maybe,”Jack answered, grinning wider.

Davey laughed. “Let me get my key card, doofus.” He stepped back inside for just a moment to grab his wallet and phone, then returned to Jack and took his hand. “And who are you supposed to be?”

“Well I was going for Revan—y’know the new movie just made Knights of the Old Republic canon—but I have no money, so I couldn’t get anything other than my old Anakin stuff, and the rest of it doesn’t fit anymore...”

“Anakin, huh?” Davey grinned. “You’re certainly dramatic enough.”

Jack gasped in mock insult. “Rude.”

Davey just rolled his eyes. “So where are we going?

“It’s a surprise,” Jack said, still grinning, and they headed towards the stairwell.

* * *

That’s how Davey found himself in the middle of the commons, wearing a too-small, flimsy, brown Jedi robe, holding a plastic lightsaber, as Jack explained the seven forms of lightsaber combat.

“For example, Darth Maul used form seven, ‘Juyo’, or ‘Vaapad’. Grievous used an imitation of it, since he isn’t a force user. It’s considered the most aggressive and unpredictable, and while there’s more Sith users, Mace Windu actually—”

“Which one do you prefer?” Davey asked, cutting him off.

“I like form five, Djem So. It’s a sort of aggressive defensive style—lots of quick counterattacks and using your opponent's movements against ‘em. Coincidentally, this one—”

Davey tuned out his words, far more transfixed with the carefree smile on his face and the sparkle in his eyes.

“So, if you want, I can teach you some basics from whichever form, or we can forget form and just fight.” Jack grinned.

Davey pursed his lips and eyed him carefully, considering. On one hand, it might be fun to let Jack teach him something. On the other... “Let’s fight.”

Jacks grin widened, and a little spark lit in his eyes that Davey hadn’t seen before. Despite the blinding smile, he looked kind of dangerous, almost predatory. He held the button and whipped his plastic lightsaber around, deploying the blade as he dropped into a combative stance. “You ready?” he asked with a cocky, teasing lilt to his voice.

Davey chuckled. “Always.”

The surprise on Jack’s face as Davey easily settled into a stance of his own was well worth those years of fencing lessons when he was younger. He’d never been all that into it, but he—of course—learned well, and although he hadn’t practiced since freshman year of high school, muscle memory does not fade easily.

The look on Jack’s face just got better and better as Davey deployed his own blade and raised his sword en garde. 

“D’you, uh...you do a lot of saber fighting, Davey?” Jack asked.

Now it was Davey’s turn to smile widely and smugly. “A little. I mostly did épée.”

Jack made a small noise of surprise and dropped his stance. “I’m sorry, were you just not gonna mention that you know how to fuckin’ sword fight!?”

“You were going to find out soon enough.”

Jack sputtered indignantly before regaining his stance. He narrowed his eyes at Davey. “I’m about to get my ass beat, aren’t I?”

Davey nodded his head to the side in lieu of a shrug. “Depends.” He grinned. “Do you do a lot of saber fighting, Jack?”

Jack scowled, but his eyes were bright and playful, still with a hint of that sharpness to them. “You’ll find out soon enough.”

As anyone in the very specific and limited audience that is both experienced in classical fencing and obsessed enough with Star Wars to be actually familiar with any of the seven forms would know, épée and Djem So do not mix smoothly. What ensued was a spirited—although rather clunky due to the differing styles—bout in which Jack was deeply impressed by Davey’s knowledge and technique, and Davey was deeply impressed by what a giant  _ nerd _ his boyfriend had to be to actually know how to use a canon lightsaber form.

Despite the disjointed cohesion of their different styles, they were well matched. It was only after a good four minutes of combat—for those without such experience, that’s a long time in a sword fight—that Davey managed a blindingly fast coupé, bringing his blade over top and around Jack’s, beat his blade to the side, and landed with Jack on point, the tip of his saber barely touching Jack’s sternum.

After a moment of stillness, save for their heavy breathing, Jack burst into laughter. “Holy shit.”

“It’s over, Jack,” Davey panted, smirking. “I have the high ground.”

“We’re on level ground, babe, you’re just tall,” Jack snickered.

“But I  _ am _ taller,” Davey said. “It counts.”

Jack rolled his eyes, smiling. “Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

Now that he wasn’t so focused on the task at hand, looking around, Davey realized they had an audience. A couple small groups of other students were spattered here and there on the commons, and many of them were quite delighted by the unexpected show. In fact, one of their unintended audience was walking towards them, smiling.

“Can I try?”

Jack looked to Davey, and Davey quickly offered his lightsaber to the newcomer. “It’s all yours.”

Jack’s eyes darted sideways towards Davey, and he tossed him a devastating smirk and a wink before dropping into that same combative stance.

“He’s gonna kick your ass, Josh!” one of the new guy’s friends called from a few yards away as ‘Josh’ stepped into a mimicry of Jack’s stance.

The two circled each other for a moment, and Davey could see in Jack’s eyes that he was measuring and calculating his new opponent, and he was struck with the sudden image of a cat stalking whatever hapless creature it had chosen as prey.

Josh’s friends had their phones out, ready to record, and Jack offered the same, “You ready?” Josh nodded, and quick as a flash, Jack was in motion.

There was something strangely satisfying about watching his boyfriend beat the shit out of someone else, in a way that wasn’t actually dangerous or harmful to anyone. To say Jack was better than this new guy was a wild understatement. Jack moved almost too fast to track what he was doing, but each move was sharp and calculated. Everything was very intentional There was a short flurry of blows, and the two broke apart. Jack twirled his lightsaber in a quick, deceptively elaborate arc, just casually showing off. Josh’s friends began to heckle again, and Jack grinned. His eyes had this sharp light behind them, and again the word that came to mind was ‘predatory’. Jack was cocky and confident. It was clear he was having fun, and even more clear that he knew he was better than his opponent. It was honestly super hot.

After two more brief exchanges, it was very obvious that Jack wasn’t really trying, just playing. Josh picked up on this and was spurred to try harder, but it hardly made a difference. In another flash of movement, Jack had parried his blade away, ducking under the resulting back-slash and around to the side of Josh, turning over his shoulder as he went so he ended facing away from him, barely a step behind his shoulder, with his lightsaber—now backwards in his hand—raised across Josh’s throat. Josh’s friends burst into laughter and applause, and Jack stepped away, dropping his blade and grinning.

Josh shook his head, impressed, and chuckled. “Shit, dude. That was awesome!”

Jack smirked and nodded his head in thanks. “You did good.”

_ That’s my boyfriend _ , Davey thought, and he couldn’t quite suppress the stupid little giggle that bubbled up inside of him.

Josh and his group moved off, and Jack walked back towards Davey, now holding both lightsabers, and still smiling an awful, dazzling smile.

Davey pulled him in for a kiss as soon as he was close enough. “You’re very talented,” he told him.

Jack laughed. “Says the guy who just wiped the floor with me.”

“What, you want a rematch?”

“You think you can handle it?” Jack teased.

Davey shoved him playfully. “Oh, you’re  _ on _ .”

* * *

Jack won their second match, and proceeded to lose the next two. As they headed towards Jack’s apartment, Jack teased Davey, asking if he had any other secret super cool skills. This began a game of making up increasingly ridiculous things for Davey to be good at, such as vertical tightrope walking on his hands—“Jack, that’s just climbing.”—or blindfolded axe throwing.

When they got to the apartment, Jack instructed Davey to set up a movie for them—Star Wars, obviously, but which one was up to him—before disappearing into the bedroom to ‘get some stuff.’ Davey dutifully set up Attack of the Clones, knowing it was Jack’s favorite, and copped a seat on the couch, smiling all the while. Jack Kelly really was something else, and Davey would not take it for granted for a single second that he had the honor of being his.

After just enough time that Davey wasn’t sure whether to be suspicious or concerned, Jack returned. He was no longer wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and a much-too-small Jedi robe, but rather a correctly sized Storm Trooper onesie, with another bundle of fabric tucked under his arm. Davey sputtered and burst out laughing.

Jack beamed. “Shut up, I’m adorable.”

“The most adorable Storm Trooper I have ever seen,” Davey agreed, nodding.

“I mean, I’m a little short to be a Storm Trooper, but what can ya do?” He shrugged, walking over towards the couch.

Davey scooted over to one side to make room for him and smiled adoringly. “You know, I’m starting to think my only real competition for your affections is Star Wars.”

“Well here, I can help you out with that,” Jack said, offering him the bundle of fabric that he had been holding.

Davey shook it out and saw that it was, in fact, a Chewbacca onesie. “Oh...my god,” he said, as absolutely nothing else came to mind.

Jack snickered. “It’s real comfy.”

“Okay, okay.” Davey held up his hands in surrender and retreated to the bathroom to change.

Jack was right; the onesie was very comfy. Davey returned to the living room and laid his own clothes over the back of a dining chair. Jack, who was now sitting sideways across the couch, leaning back into the corner, reached out towards Davey and opened and closed his hands in a grabby motion. Davey shook his head fondly and went to him. After some shifting, they ended up with Davey sitting between Jack’s legs, leaned back against his chest, with Jack’s arms wrapped around him in a loose hug. Davey tilted his head back and to the side to press a light kiss to Jack’s jaw.

Jack hummed happily and looked down at him. “Did you pick my favorite on purpose, or just shoot at random?” he asked with a smile, nodding his head towards the TV, where Attack of The Clones had started.

“If I shot at random, landed on Attack of the Clones, and didn’t know it was your favorite, I’d have shot again,” Davey told him.

Jack laughed. “Rude.”

“Hey, I picked it for you, didn’t I?” Davey protested. “Besides, even the worst Star Wars is better than no Star Wars, and this isn’t even the worst—Solo is.”

Jack nodded. “You right, though. I think we’d all have preferred Harrison Ford just pretending he’s in his twenties again.”

“I prefer Harrison Ford, in general,” Davey sighed wistfully, shifting to settle himself better.

“Man, don’t we all.” Jack chuckled.

“Not gonna lie, though,” Davey went on. “I’m straight for young Carrie Fisher.”

“Have we ever discussed watching the original trilogy while bisexual? Because hoo boy.”

“I’m sure it’s agony,” Davey laughed.

“Usually, yeah. But now, I got you.” Jack nuzzled the top of Davey’s head and rested his cheek against him.

Davey hummed happily. “Now, you got me.”


End file.
